


Everything

by bluefallenfandomwallflowers



Category: Supernatural
Genre: And i hope you needed it to, Caring Castiel, Castiel is fucking badass and I am so overcome with feels rn so please enjoy this, Coda, Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s12e09 First Blood, Fluff, I fucking needed this, M/M, Mild Smut, Needy Dean, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Sad Dean Winchester, Season/Series 12, Smut, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-20 05:07:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9476948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluefallenfandomwallflowers/pseuds/bluefallenfandomwallflowers
Summary: "You're here, Dean. You're with me."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey lovelies.
> 
> I am clearly having some fluctuating emotions tonight, but writing this felt so damn good.
> 
> This whole thing with what Jensen said at a recent con has fucking blown up the fandom and yeah, I was one of those fans who cried and just felt a little stunned by this.
> 
> But I can't help it, because I am a huge shipper and this is my fucking OTP and I love Jensen Ackles with all my heart, but that doesn't mean i agree with him.
> 
> Destiel isn't some made up fantasy-- to me and many others, it is so real. It is so freaking clear! And yeah, this probably means that it will never be declared canon, but in some aspects, does it need to be?
> 
> Are we absolutely dying for a confirmation? Cause i'm sure as hell not. With or without "canon", the ship sails in my book and I will not be letting it go. Even Jensen's opinion will not influence me. It simply hurt for a few days and it is still painful to look back upon, but I'm not going to let it push me down to where I'm scared to praise my ship because a few haters and bibros and Misha/Castiel haters and any other fans don't ship it. 
> 
> I'm fucking proud of my ship and you all should be too. <3 Don't be scared, ya'll. Now is the time to spam the internet with as much Destiel as you possibly can!
> 
> So, that being said, this is my comeback.
> 
> Tonight's episode, First Blood, was honestly amazing in my opinion. Castiel is fucking badass and I love him so much. He would do anything for the Winchesters, even Mary who honestly doesn't seem very fond of him. ;/
> 
> But, guys, this is so good.
> 
> The writers are showing us exactly who Castiel is, spreading this on to the Winchesters and hopefully, they'll put Team Free Will back together the way they should be.
> 
> Here's my contribution to this wonderful episode. Enjoy! <3

They stop at a hotel somewhere in Loveland, Colorado, Cas convincing them all that they deserve a nicer place to rest for the night. And they listen, because Cas’ eyes are watery and he keeps checking on Sam with a worried glance and his hand rests on the seat next to Dean’s thigh, fingers bouncing nervously.

Dean wants to be able to tell him that they’re okay, that it was no big deal, but he can’t.

He can’t lie, even about this.

Mary takes the lead, going up to the front desk, Cas keeping close to them both, and Dean’s heart aches. A lot of feelings were let out tonight, a lot of emotion from such a stoic and closed off angel.

Maybe it’s because of spending over six weeks in captivation, or the fact that this lobby seems too nice to be standing in, but Dean doesn’t speak. He only breathes through his nose, eyes catching on a potted plant and staying there until Cas brushes against his arm, worrying his own lip.

Sam looks relieved, though, so that’s a good sign.

Mary reminds him of Cas sometimes, in the way she doesn’t show any emotion. She hides it away, deep inside, years of practice reappearing in the way her body moves and how she scans the room, searching for any hint of danger.

They each get a key, and Dean almost protests.

He can’t be alone for another second.

He’s been alone for so long that these bright lights and polite smiles are welcomed, craved even. It hurts his head, but he bears it and grits his teeth and it feels so good to walk for more than a few feet before being forced to turn around.

Mary’s room is on another floor, but she seems fine with going off by herself. Maybe she asked for it specifically.

With a tight hug that doesn’t last long enough, Sam bids them goodnight before slipping into his room, sighing.

Then it’s them alone and Dean could cry, right here and now, in a way he hasn’t done in years.

Unspoken, Cas follows Dean into his room, locking the door and going for the windows while Dean sinks onto the soft bed, the sheets fresh and the walls free from mysterious stains, the carpet vacuumed. It’s the best thing ever, and that’s when the tears start to fall and his chest constricts over and over and he covers his face.

“Fuck,” he whispers.

The sound of Cas’ trench coat shuffling ceases and he can hear him slip off his shoes. He begins to sob when Cas lies next to him, hand settling on Dean’s forearm.

Maybe Dean should be feeling embarrassed right now, but he doesn’t.

Not with Cas, not after everything that has happened, today and before. Not when Cas is shushing him and pulling him against his chest, fingers massaging Dean’s head. “You’re here, Dean,” he says, sounding soft, the gravel leaving and being replaced with a soothing voice and a lover’s tone. “You’re with me.”

Dean slowly calms down and the clothes Mary had stashed in the trunk for them feel sticky, his body coated with chilled sweat, tears staining on his cheeks. “Thanks. For saving her. I- I don’t- I just--”

“Shh, Dean. You don’t have to do this now.”

It makes him feel guilty, but Dean is relieved. There is so much he wants to say, but right now his voice is almost gone and he is exhausted and everything just hurts.

But not Cas. He takes the initiative and pulls Dean up, leading him towards the pristine bathroom. The shower splashes on, the water already hot, and he waits outside while Dean leans against the tiled wall, hands gripping his arms.

The water is great, and he stays in there until his skin is pruned and his sinuses are cleared and Cas doesn’t bother him, doesn’t expect anything. Even his soul feels a bit lighter, warmer, and a long awaited sigh leaves his body in one swoop, the last sobs passing his lips until he falls silent.

Dean looks into the mirror and nods his head, because they’re still alive.

They’re together.

Cas had come in during his shower and placed neatly folded clothes on the counter that Dean had never seen before. He must have been in there longer than he thought.

Sliding into checkered boxers and a cotton t-shirt, Dean opens the door, steam escaping quickly.

Cas is under the covers, his fingers sliding over the screen of his phone, eyebrows clenched. “Hey,” he says gently, gazing up at Dean with a fond expression, hands dropping. “Are you feeling better?”

He nods, rubbing at his face. The bed doesn’t creak noisily as he climbs in next to Cas and he already feels snuggled up under the indulging fleece comforter.

Motels are fucking shit.

Cas’ phone screen goes blank with a sharp click. “Would you like me to leave?”

Dean peers up at Cas from the midst of comfort, heart skipping a beat with anxiety. “Please don’t,” he quietly begs. He searches for Cas’ hand and it meets him in the middle, cool compared to the heat surrounding him.

Cas flicks off the lamp, faint light coming from the bathroom, and scoots down, pulling the covers over his shoulders. He studies Dean with smoothed out features, the usual stress lines marking his face vanishing, the way they do every time they’re alone, when he knows Dean is safe.

“I’ll watch over you,” Cas promises, knuckles dragging lightly over Dean’s cheek.

He exhales shakily, something deep and strong pulling at his heart, because this is his Cas. He’ll always be here, always wishing to comfort Dean and keep him safe, even when he doesn’t want Cas to.

But right now he wants it, he _needs_ it.

He will always come back to this, to Cas, to a love so bold and prominent and blazing, bright.

Dean slips away, content.

 

*

 

In the morning, he’s begging and needing and sliding his hand under Cas’ shirt, their fingers bumping as Cas loosens the buttons, their lips meeting somewhere in the consuming heat, that same blaze growing, a fire inside of him.

Cas grips him gently, hard, murmuring in his ear, all sorts of unintelligible things that make Dean gasp. He bucks, leg flexing, hips desperate and voice calling.

“I need you,” Dean breathes out harshly, meaning every syllable, wanting to get it across. Cas knows, but Dean has to remind him for his own sake and Cas kisses him again, other hand on the back of Dean’s head.

“I know, Dean.” Cas kisses his forehead, exhales against his temple. His grip tightens and Dean trips out a moan. “I know.”

He spills first, scrambling to get a better grasp on Cas, wanting him to feel the same sweet release. Dean rides it out, staring at Cas through drooping lids, vibrating with it.

Cas’ eyes flutter shut and he muffles a cry into Dean’s shoulder, hips moving to their own accord as he meets his own.

Everything becomes light and mellow in the afternoon sun as they catch their breaths, and Dean curls up around Cas and runs his fingertips over the angel’s collarbone, not a care in the world.

“How bad do you think those consequences are?” He wonders out loud a few minutes later, smirking a bit.

Castiel shoots him a look, clearly not appreciating Dean’s light humor. “I won’t let anything happen to you or Sam.”

“Hey, chill out. I was only joking.”

Dean is a fucking soppy mess and he rises up on his elbow to press their lips together, humming lightly. Everything just feels so good and Cas is subdued beneath him, shoulders tight, as if this is his last chance to show Dean exactly how much he means to him.

“Relax,” Dean soothes, fingers twirling Cas’ hair, a smile pulling at his lips, and even that feels foreign.

He hasn’t smiled in months.

Cas does as he’s told, and as his eyes close, Dean rests their foreheads together, their breaths aligning, Cas’ heart just as human as his.

 

*

 

Another perk of staying at a hotel is free food in the lobby.

And although breakfast passed a long time ago, lunch is just beginning.

Dean piles up on sandwiches and soda and fruit and things so healthy Sam is giving him prideful grins, as if he’s finally completed his job as an annoying little brother.

“Don’t look too smug, Sammy, this is just all they have to offer apparently,” Dean huffs, trying not to bite into his ham sandwich with enthusiasm. But eventually he gives up, because this is the best damn thing he’s had in his mouth since… He can’t remember.

A dusty couch sits in front of a flat screen, and they all feel a lot more comfortable sitting there then at plastic tables among the rest of the stray guests who look important with bags under their eyes and glowing briefcases.

Cas sips tea from a coffee mug, eyes squinting at the television where they’re broadcasting theories about strange sounds and suspicious men deep in Rocky Mountain National Park. Clearly none of the newscasters believe what these people are preaching, but they’re adamant to convince and they go on and on until Sam switches the channel, cross-legged on the floor because the couch is too close to the coffee table.

Then it’s the geographical channel and both Sam and Cas are instantly drawn in, leaving Dean with his own mind.

Dean glances towards Cas every once in a while, taking in the tilt of his head, the bridge of his nose. Cas has a faint bruise on his neck, but Dean doesn’t even worry about it anymore. If Sam or Mary wonders, they can figure it out for themselves, come to their own conclusions.

On cue, Mary steps into his line of sight and they all turn their heads, Dean’s eyes resting on the bag propped up on her shoulder. “Ready to head out?”

Sam and Dean share a look, Cas setting down his mug, trading it for a few pistachios Sam gathered in a paper cup. He tries one and smiles like a kid in a candy store, having discovered yet another tiny delectable piece of humanity.

“Yeah,” Dean says, with a nod, smiling gently. “I think we’re ready to go home.”


End file.
